


Saying Goodbye

by Portia77



Series: Darcy Lewis, Badass Bitch [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Death of grandparent, F/M, Family Loss, Grief, M/M, Mourning, Multi, Vague allusions to COVID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Portia77/pseuds/Portia77
Summary: In which Darcy processes the grief of a loved one's passing with the help of her partners.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Darcy Lewis, Badass Bitch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799653
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Saying Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what to say about this one. I might delete it later. I wrote it today in one sitting shortly after learning my grandma passed away due to COVID. I didn't really understand what therapeutic writing felt like until I wrote this. I'm sad and numb and angry and tired, and escaping to a world where Steve and Bucky could take care of me - silly as it sounds - really helped. 
> 
> I know I'm certainly not the only one who has dealt with loss due to the virus. My heart goes out to anyone who can relate to this suffering. It feels enormous.
> 
> This goes without saying, but there are definitely grammatical errors in this. And I doubt it's good writing, but it made me feel good writing it.

It was Sunday afternoon at the Avengers Compound. Bucky and Steve were in the middle of a training session with the rest of the team when Friday’s emergency alarm dinged, signalling to everyone in the room to stop what they were doing at once and listen. 

Friday had only interrupted an Avengers training session a few times before, always to tell them of a real-life crisis happening. Her directive in this case was unusual, completely different from the rest. 

“Captain, Sergeant, I believe it would be wise to return to your apartment and attend to Miss Lewis with haste.” 

Friday didn’t add anything else, and neither soldier bothered asking. It didn’t matter. The request was unique enough to send both men gunning into action. Steve was only distantly aware of tossing his shield to the far corner of the room, of Bucky holstering his gun as they ran in tandem out of the gym and straight for the stairs - the stairs, because they could run faster than the elevator could traverse. Steve led the way, Bucky hot on his heels as they charged straight to their floor and without stopping, Steve shouldered the door off its hinges, plowed right through it. 

They hadn’t even reached the door to their apartment, the one they shared with Darcy, before they heard her. It was hard to define the noise they heard. Steve thought it almost didn’t sound human, but Friday would have told them if they were under attack from aliens. 

Bucky got to the door first, pushed it open and - 

Darcy, on her hands and knees by the couch, like she’d rolled off it and collapsed, trying to stand. Darcy, head down, screaming at the top of her lungs. No, not screaming - sobbing, wailing in a way that could only be described as guttural and raw, tearing in her throat, shredding her vocal chords. Neither man had ever heard her sound like that before. Neither man had ever heard a sound like that before,  _ period _ . 

Steve spotted her cell phone laying face-up on the ground, a few inches from his girlfriend’s hand, and he put it to his ear as Bucky wrapped both arms around Darcy and held her tight, draped over her back like a protective shell. The two men shared a panicked look as Steve listened to the person on the other end - her mother, he realized. He hadn’t spoken to Darcy’s mother personally before; Angela Lewis did not approve of her daughter’s polyamorous relationship, in no uncertain terms, even though Darcy had made it clear she wouldn’t give either Steve or Bucky up for anyone. 

Steve had spent a great deal of time feeling privately resentful of Angela Lewis and the pain she’d brought on the woman he loved with his whole soul. He imagined plenty of times what their first conversation might go like, imagining what it would be like to speak his mind to the person who could turn her back on her only daughter. 

It only took a split second of listening to Mrs Lewis’ own devastated sobbing for that anger to melt away. 

He got the news in pieces from Mrs Lewis, who couldn’t string more than four words together at a time. Bucky plainly heard her as well, from where he was sitting and holding Darcy tight, who didn’t stop wailing longer than it took to breathe. 

When Darcy’s mom finally ended the call, saying she just couldn’t talk anymore and reassured by Steve that he would look after Darcy, he set the phone down on the couch and pressed in beside Darcy, shielding her, covering her between himself and Bucky. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered, eyes wet. He didn’t know Darcy’s grief personally, but it was still the woman he loved, and he felt her suffering in his heart. “Sweetheart…” 

“I don’t understand,” Darcy sobbed, the first thing she’d said in all the time since he and Bucky had arrived. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.  _ I don’t understand.”  _ And she broke out into renewed wails, a kind of grief that just couldn’t be contained. 

A week ago, Darcy’s grandma had checked into the hospital with difficulty breathing, but doctors had indicated they had it under control. Things had taken a bit of a turn a few days ago, when Darcy was told that her grandma had a fifty-fifty chance of survival, but it was only this morning that Mrs Lewis called to say Darcy’s grandma seemed stable as long as she wore an oxygen mask. 

From what Steve understood on the call, Grandma Lewis had taken to pulling her oxygen mask off, either in confusion or panic, and tragically, she had taken her mask off when the nurses weren’t looking. By the time they realized, she had stopped breathing and it was just too late. 

“They said she was fine,” Darcy cried, looking between the two of them desperately. Her face was flushed, a broken image of pain peering up at them for help. “They said her levels were good.” 

They hadn’t in fact said that, but Steve wasn’t going to argue it now. What the doctors had actually said was that she hadn’t gotten any  _ worse,  _ which was not, of course, to say she was doing better. 

It was another ten minutes before Darcy calmed down, her screaming dying off into tired, weepy little sniffles, the occasional burst of pain. Bucky drew her into his arms as Darcy quieted and sent Steve a look, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. 

Right. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Bucky murmured. “I’m here. I’m here, honey. I’ve got you.” 

“It’s not fair,” Darcy was whispering over and over. “It’s not fair.” 

Steve figured food was off the table for now, but he filled a tall glass with ice cold water and grabbed a cold compress from the freezer as well, anticipating a headache for his girl. Now more than ever he was grateful that they had a relationship with three people, a relationship where he could get supplies to look after Darcy, safe in the knowledge that Bucky would hold her for as long as she needed while he was gone. 

“Here,” Steve said when he got back. Bucky had moved them to the couch, sitting Darcy on his lap in the cradle of his thighs. She was resting her head on his shoulder, eyes wet but otherwise silent and quite still. It was like all the terrifying grief had drained away, leaving her hollow and exhausted. 

Steve understood. He thought back to his own mother’s passing - a memory that felt so far away and still so recent - and could recall all too well the way that a sudden calm that had passed over him, a blankness that swept through his soul and carried away all his sadness until there was nothing left. He was just empty. 

That same emptiness filled Darcy’s eyes now, a distant far-off gaze on her face as she accepted the glass of water without a word. 

“We’re here,” Steve whispered, echoing Bucky’s earlier words. “We’re so sorry, baby. I know you loved her so much.” 

“I’m… I’m so tired.” Darcy rubbed at her eyes. Bucky’s hand stroked up and down her spine as Steve’s gently swept over the apple of her cheek tenderly. 

“That’s normal,” Steve said. “It’s normal to feel whatever you feel. Sadness, anger, shock.” 

“Numb,” Bucky added, and Steve nodded. 

“Yeah, that too. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s  _ normal. _ ”

Darcy swallowed thickly, and in the smallest voice, she asked, “Relief?” 

“Yes.” Steve nodded firmly. He remembered that feeling, too. After days of waiting for news about his mother’s condition, days of praying and crying and hoping for a miracle he knew would never come, when she had finally passed, he’d felt ashamed at the sense of relief that overcame him. It wasn’t until he got to the 21st century and started spending time with Sam that he realized how complex grief really was, and that his feeling of relief didn’t have anything to do with wanting his mother to die, but only feeling relieved that the anxiety and terror of not knowing what would happen next was over. It was done. 

“We both know you loved your grandma,” Bucky promised soothingly. He kissed her forehead, the same way Steve lifted one of Darcy’s hands to kiss her knuckles, one by one. “She was scared and in pain, and now she’s not. Being relieved, it doesn’t mean you’re not sad, doll. Just means you’re relieved she’s not suffering now. That’s all.”

Steve made a noise of agreement. “We just want you to feel so loved right now, honey. We love you so much.”

Darcy didn’t say anything, but she gripped his hand extra tight. 

They stayed huddled like that for the next half hour, with Darcy taking sips of water until the glass was empty. Bucky and Steve exchanged the occasional glance over her head, neither making any move to get up and leave. They waited for Darcy to break the silence, following her lead.

“Do you know what’s fucked up?” she said in a hoarse rasp. “All I wanna do is check my phone and play on some dumb app or something.” 

“Not fucked up,” Steve said quickly, brushing some of her hair off her face. Bucky passed her over into Steve’s arms, giving him a turn to hold her. “If that’s what you want to do, we can do that. It’s normal to want a distraction right now.”

“You wanna do something to take your mind off of things?” Bucky offered, and they eventually decided on baking cookies.

“You don’t have to eat any,” Steve reminded her, as they began hauling ingredients out of the cupboards. “And we can stop whenever you want.” 

“I know,” Darcy mumbled, but she didn’t stop measuring out flour. They worked together in silence, Darcy pouring and mixing and stirring as her partners worked to clear the counter and wash dirty dishes she made. 

“It’s so strange,” she said, measuring out spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. “I was screaming not even an hour ago, but I feel so… Quiet now.” 

“When my dad died,” Bucky began very softly, and Steve had to force himself not to jump at the words coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth. “I remember howlin’ at the officer who came by to tell us ‘bout the accident. Later that same day, I went out to buy eggs because we needed them. The grocer there, he asked me how I was doing, and I said I was fine. And then I went home, made supper for my sisters, tucked them into bed and cried by myself the whole night.” 

Darcy was staring at Bucky when he finished talking, just as Steve was. It wasn’t as though this was a story Steve didn’t know; on the contrary, he recalled very clearly the way Bucky had thrown himself into Steve’s arms when he came by to visit the next day. But it wasn’t one they had discussed on this side of the century. Until that moment, Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky even remembered it. 

As saddened as Steve felt to hear his best friend recalling his own grief, a glance at Darcy was all it took to realize the tale was helping her. She listened to Bucky intently, a gentle frown of empathy in the crease of her brow. He was creating a connection, Steve realized, opening up about loss and suffering as a way to make Darcy feel understood and loved. 

That was more than enough to coax Steve into talking next, laying out his own sorrow at losing his mother. The three of them hugged each other and cried a little, only letting go when the timer for the over went off. 

As expected, Darcy didn’t have any of her homemade treats, but she sat at the kitchen table and watched the pair of super soldiers chow down on half a dozen double chocolate chip cookies in silence. 

“I don’t know what to do next,” she admitted ruefully, wiping a dash of flour off her forehead. “I kinda feel like...I’m trying to get through all of the grieving stages at once. Like, I’m sitting here telling myself that I have wonderful memories of my grandma and that she knew I loved her and she loved me and…” Darcy sighed. “It doesn’t work like that though, does it?” 

“It takes time,” Steve agreed. He and Bucky had been careful to keep a hand nearby for her to hold and touch, equally careful not to smother her, though. It didn’t seem like it was something to worry about; she took turns clinging to their hands, happy to soak in the love they offered her. 

“But that’s a good thing to tell yourself,” Bucky added. “She did love you, and she definitely knew you loved her. And you have those memories with her - those are so precious, Darcy. More precious than anything in the world.” 

Darcy blinked quickly, lip quivering. “I don’t know what to do next,” she repeated sadly. 

Steve and Bucky gathered up either of her hands in theirs, a warm and steady presence in the maelstrom of her grief. 

“You do exactly what you’ve been doing,” Steve said firmly. “You can cry, or sit in silence, or say whatever is on your mind. If you want to fill the whole tower with cookies, we can do that. If you want to spend the next month snuggling on the couch, we can do that, too. Just do whatever you want to do, sweetheart. We’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Not going anywhere,” Bucky said, just as resolute. Both men gazed at her like they wanted the depth of their love to reach into her very soul.

It didn’t take away the pain of Darcy’s loss, but she couldn’t deny in that moment the way her heart warmed at the realization that she had in her life two people who really, truly loved her.


End file.
